by Ching, G. P.
Robotically, his mom entered the kitchen, her thin lips pursed. She’d aged this year. New wrinkles carved out the path her frown took on her face, and her hair was gray at the roots. “You haven’t helped ‘round here much since you’ve been home,” she said, her voice heavy with disappointment.
“I help when I can.”
“Which ain’t often.”
“It’s not what I want to do.” The words were out before Dane could consider the implications of the admission.
His mom scooted the basket off her hip and onto the table near his backpack. She started forcibly folding the laundry. “Sometimes a thing grows on a body once they try it.”
“I spent the first seventeen years of my life trying it,” Dane murmured, then immediately regretted it. Tears gathered in his mom’s eyes. He hated to hurt her. None of this was her fault, and he’d put her through so much this summer when he disappeared.
Of course, it wasn’t his fault either. He’d been captured and held prisoner by Lucifer. But he couldn’t tell his parents the truth about what happened. Instead, he’d said he didn’t remember anything, and the town assumed his fate was the same as Stephanie Westcott’s, who also couldn’t remember anything. Dane was told he was abducted, drugged, and kept in a warehouse, a victim of a human trafficking ring. He was freed, just in time, by an FBI sting operation. While a good story, there wasn’t a grain of truth to it. Nevertheless, his family welcomed him home and eventually stopped asking questions.
Things hadn’t been the same since because Dane wasn’t the same. Not only was he still a bit thinner, his mind was constantly elsewhere. He couldn’t force himself to pretend anymore that he wanted anything to do with the farm.
Now his mother stared at him with dull eyes as if she didn’t know who he was anymore. “You may not remember anything about your abduction, but I do. You left a gaping hole in our family. It broke my heart.”
“I’m sorry—”
She held up one bony hand. “You’re eighteen, a legal adult, and I suppose you’ll do what you want to do. But we need you, Dane. Whatever happened to you was traumatic. Your father and I’ve let you do your own thing for a while so you could recover. But I’m beginning to think this isn’t about recovering. Don’t you want to be part of this family anymore?”
“Mom.” Dane shook his head. “I do want to be part of this family. But why does that always mean corn and soybeans? Isn’t it enough I’m here, and I’m healthy? I’m not the only one who can work the farm. You’ve got Walter and Jenny.”
“Walter’s only fourteen and doesn’t have half the brains for business you do. You know that. And Jenny will never be able to handle the physical demands.”
“You underestimate both of them. Give them a few years.” Cracking his neck, Dane shuffled to the cabinet to pull down a mason jar. He opened the fridge and reached for the lemonade.
“We may not have a few years,” his mom said from behind him.
He abandoned his quest for a beverage and turned back toward her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Your father isn’t well.”
Dane closed the refrigerator door.
“He’s had some tingling in his toes for a year or so now. It’s advanced recently. Sometimes he can’t feel his leg at all. Now it’s started in his fingers. Doc doesn’t know what it is. After harvest, he’s got to see a doctor at Mayo clinic for more tests. Of course, he should go now, but he won’t. Not with a full field.”
Suddenly nauseous, Dane swallowed hard and pressed a hand to his stomach. His father, sick? He’d always thought his dad was practically invincible. Nothing ever slowed the man down. An ongoing joke in their family was how his dad was back in the field the same day Dane was born. He’d never spent a morning in bed his entire life. What if it were true? If his father needed him, genuinely needed him, he’d have to help, at least until Walter was old enough to take over. That meant no college, no Eden. Not for a long, long time.
“So, after harvest? In December? That’s when he goes to Mayo?”
“Yes.” His mother’s face paled.
“Give me until then. I need time. I’ll start in the spring, if he’s not better, if he really needs me. I’ll help out more.”
For the first time in what seemed like forever, his mother smiled.
Chapter 5
Ethan’s Eden
Ethan circled the hooded figure, ready for anything. From under the cloak, a knife appeared and whipped at his head with blinding speed. He pushed with his telekinesis, and the weapon dropped harmlessly at his feet. A barrage of throwing stars came next, sailing at his chest from the folds of her cloak as she spun closer to him. This was more difficult. As fast as possible, he concentrated on one at a time, deflecting each with his mind and attempting to dodge the rest. The last one grazed his shoulder.
He spun away, trying to distance himself from his assailant, but she was too quick. She executed a front flip over his head, an admirable feat considering the long, flowing cloak she wore, and pressed the tip of her dagger into his back. He tried to dive roll forward, but she dropped to the floor and swept his legs with one of hers, causing him to topple to the sanded wood.
The dagger plunged toward his heart. With everything he had left, he held her off, gripping her wrist with his hands and prying the blade from her fingers with his mind. The knife clanked to the floor beside them, but not before she thrust her hands forward, cutting off his eye contact with the sleeve of her cloak. Her knee pressed into his chest, pinning him to the floor, and with his face covered he couldn’t use his power to get her off. In three lithe moves, she flipped him onto his knees and bound his hands behind his back, all with her bell sleeve tightly wound around his head.
“Do you know what you did wrong?” Lillian asked.
“I let you get too close,” Ethan said from under the cotton.
“Correct.”
The black cloth retracted, and he took a deep breath. Lillian freed his hands and lifted him to his feet, tossing the cloak to the floor in frustration.
“You’re not concentrating, Ethan. You are powerful, but you lack focus. You can’t allow yourself to get distracted.” She smoothed her straight black hair back from her face and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Kind of hard to concentrate with a knife in your face.”
She sighed. “I know it’s not easy, but your telekinesis is useless if you can’t see your target. For you, maintaining distance is essential.”
“Not always possible,” Ethan complained. “What if I’m overcome from behind? What if there’s more than one assailant?”
Lillian smiled, approaching him. “That’s why we learn martial arts. If you didn’t have your power, where would you strike me?”
He jabbed, stopping short of touching her. “The eyes, nose, solar plexus, kidneys.”
“Correct. So when an attacker has a knife in your face, don’t use your power to disarm him. Use your power to blind him.”
Ethan’s mouth dropped open. Of course, she was right, but the thought was brutal. Using his telekinesis to push in an eyeball or thrust a person’s nose into their brain seemed almost like cheating. He laughed through his nose at the irony. Usually, cheating wasn’t a problem for him.
“In a real fight with the damned, they won’t play fair. Demons will maim you in a heartbeat and eat your flesh while you’re still alive. Strike early and leave no advantage for the sake of fairness.” She smiled. “I’d hate to lose such a talented Soulkeeper.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Lau.”
“You’re welcome, Ethan. Your skills are coming along nicely. It’s obvious you’ve been practicing.”
“I want to be ready. Next time I want to fight.” During the last major battle, Ethan was left behind in Eden to nurse Dane back to health. Not that he’d minded. Not at all. But he wanted to be useful. The Soulkeepers were his family now.
She slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s good to be brave. Even better to be prepar
ed.”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “I think you just proved as much to me.”
“Good. Clean up this mess and you’re done for the day.” She nodded her goodbye and slipped out the rice paper door.
Hands on his hips, Ethan eyed the sanded wood floor apprehensively; knives, swords, stars, and even nunchucks littered the dojo. The spoils of war. As exhausted as he was, he was also pleased with himself. When he’d first arrived in Eden, he couldn’t have defended himself against a wooden staff. Now Lillian required the entire room’s arsenal to bring him down. Ethan focused on the dagger closest to him. The blade soared from the floor into the rack on the wall, followed by the throwing stars and the long sword. A wooden staff and a chain were next, the last wrapping itself neatly on a spool. Brass knuckles fit into a small drawer, and the cloak hung itself on a hook. He turned circles, using his mind to clean up the remainder.
When everything was righted, he stared at the rack on the wall, proud of how far he’d come. Every day he grew stronger, more confident. More a Soulkeeper. Lately, that was all he wanted to be.
“This some kind of new training method,” a disembodied voice said into his ear.
Ethan whirled around as Jesse formed behind him out of thin air. He might never get used to the way the guy could break apart and hang in the air or his electric violet eyes, so unsettling. But his particular gifts were damn useful and frighteningly powerful. Ethan was glad Ghost, as he liked to be called, was on his side.
“Nah. I was just thinking about how far I’ve come since I’ve been here. Lillian is an amazing instructor.”
“True that.” Ghost stepped to his side. “Bonnie needs help hanging the decorations in the dining hall. She says she wants you to do it, so she doesn’t have to use a ladder.” He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Ethan led the way through the door and into the hallway.
“Isn’t it obvious, Ethan? If she wanted to, she could meld with Sam and easily reach the ceiling. She wants you to do it because she thinks you’re hot, or as the twins say, haaawt.”
Ethan snorted. “I am haaaawt, but I’m also gay. She knows this. Everyone knows this. I’ve known I was gay since I was twelve.”
“Maybe she thinks she can change the flag you’re flying.” Ghost laughed so hard he came apart a little at the edges.
Ethan stopped abruptly in the hallway. “You can’t even say that with a straight face. Look at me, Ghost. Is there one heterosexual cell in my body?”
Ghost stepped back and rubbed his chin for a moment. “No. Absolutely not. You came out of the womb singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow with jazz hands.”
“Thank you,” Ethan said, spreading his fingers on either side of his face for effect. “It’s taken me a long time to be happy and proud of who I am. I don’t need anyone trying to change me. Hell, I get enough of that from my parents.” He continued toward the dining hall.
“Aww, consider it a compliment. Let’s face it, there’s a limited pool of Soulkeeper genes, and since Sam and I are sort of, you know…”
“Heavily flirting with a side of occasionally making out.”
“Um, yeah. You could put it that way. Anyhow, maybe Bonnie feels like you’re what’s available.” Ghost shrugged.
A shiver traveled the length of Ethan’s spine, and he tightened his forehead. “Worst reason to like someone ever. Just because we’re Soulkeepers, doesn’t mean we need to breed with each other. Hell, it would be better to spread out the genes. You know what? I’m not even going to go there. It’s stupid. I’m gay. Bonnie needs to find someone else to set her sights on.”
Ethan continued toward the dining hall, noticing with the lull in conversation only his own footsteps were audible even though Ghost was right beside him. The guy was unreal. He paused at the door and took a deep breath.
“Hey, I could tell Bonnie there’s always Dane.”
Wincing as if he’d taken a blow to the gut, Ethan gaped at Ghost in disbelief.
“I’m just kidding, dude, but you seriously need to sort that one out. The guy has no idea what flag he’s flying. Might not even own a flag pole,” Ghost whispered.
“Do me a favor and don’t talk about Dane or his flag pole,” Ethan said. “It’s none of your business.”
Ghost flared his hands next to his shoulders and smirked. “What if I’m interested?”
“Hah! If I was born with jazz hands, you were born winking at the nurse who caught you.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Listen, I have feelings for Dane, true. But I don’t want him to change for me. Being homosexual is no cup of tea in this world. Part of me hopes he’s not. And, honestly, it doesn’t matter because I accept him for who he is, unconditionally.”
“That’s beautiful, man.”
Ethan flashed a lopsided grin. “I have my moments.”
“But what if he just needs, like, a push. You know, he grew up in Paris, not exactly an open-minded metropolis. Maybe if you just grabbed him and showed him how you felt—”
“Worst idea ever.” Ethan shook his head. “No, if Dane wants something more than friendship, he’ll have to figure that out for himself. I’m not going to force him into anything. I’ll wait.”
Ghost sighed. “You might be waiting a long time, bro.”
Ethan shrugged. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.” He pushed open the door and entered an enormous room that reminded him of a cuckoo clock. Circular and constructed of intricately carved wood, the open space welcomed him in. All of the Soulkeepers ate here when they were in Eden at long wooden tables with high-backed chairs that stretched across the room.
Bonnie looked up from her spot at the head of the center table where she strung nuts, pinecones, and dried fruit into a garland. Everything in Eden had to be handmade and natural. Even the power was solar. And the diet? One hundred percent vegan. While a challenge to get used to, Ethan had to admit he’d experienced clarity here he’d never had in the outside world, an inner peace that made him want to be a better person.
“Ghost!” Samantha sang, skipping from the place where she arranged flowers on the table to Ghost’s side. He pulled her to his hip and kissed her cheek.
“It’s about time. Could use some help here. Party’s supposed to start in an hour,” Bonnie said, annoyed.
Ghost laughed. “Relax, Bon-bell. It’s just us coming. No one is going to say a word if the garland isn’t up.”
“Hey!” she yelled. “This is important. If we’re stuck going to school here, we might as well make the best of it. Plus, this garland is a pain in the butt. Respect my skills, or else.”
“Or else, what?”
“Or else, I’ll get Archibald to hang it.”
Everyone groaned. The school gnomes were exceedingly useful when it came to keeping up the grounds, cooking, and cleaning, but they were terrible at odd jobs. The problem was you had to be ridiculously specific to get what you wanted. They had to know when to start and when to stop. Ethan had asked Sage, a two-foot-tall female with a beard, to fold his laundry and found her three hours later, folding and unfolding the same shirts. Not only were his clothes permanently creased from the pressing, but Sage was irate. She huffed from the room, rubbing her sore hands. Abigail ordered her to take two days off to placate her and berated Ethan for not being more careful. None of the Soulkeepers liked to use them for fear of making a mistake and damaging one of them.
Ethan sauntered to Bonnie’s side, accepting the end of the garland from her. She flushed when his fingers brushed hers. Ugh. He stepped backward, a little too quickly, and cleared his throat. Full attention on the garland, he lifted it with his mind to the ceiling beam, tying off the end. As strong as he was now, the dexterity required to split and cross the force he created in order to tie a knot was challenging. He hadn’t perfected the skill yet, but somehow he managed, even under the scrutiny of Bonnie’s stare. He moved on to the next strand, draping the garland in swags across the timbered ceiling.
&nb
sp; “It’s beautiful,” Bonnie said into his ear. When had she moved so close?
He finished tying off the last strand and dusted his hands as if he’d had to use them. “Yeah. Looks great. I like what you did with the pomegranates.” He gave her an efficient smile, trying his best to bleed all warmth from his expression. Somehow, she’d gotten the wrong idea about him. He didn’t want to be rude or presumptuous, but he also couldn’t lead her on.
Her eyebrows knitted together. “I’m going to go get the music,” she said softly.
To Ethan’s relief, she left the room, but the way she grinned at her sister as she passed through the enormous wooden doors made his stomach sink. Oh hell! Why couldn’t anything be simple?
Chapter 6
The Quota
With a flick of her well-manicured hand, the redheaded Watcher, Alexandra, opened the gate to Nod and dragged the Hopi boy into the city of the damned. Her dark purple, stiletto boots trudged over the filthy street, past a group of Watchers stripping flesh from a newly captured human. Yum! As soon as she made her deposit with Auriel, she was joining that party. This little number made her quota for the week.
She yanked her quarry into line behind the ten or so other Watchers bringing in their souls. Ahead of her, Xavier had an old woman in his clutches.
“Please, please let me go. I need to take care of my grandchildren.” She struggled helplessly against his talons.
“Oh, dear woman,” Xavier said, pressing a nail into her chin, “I’ll take care of your grandchildren. The young are so much sweeter.”
The woman burst into hysterics, weeping desperately.
Alexandra eyed her captive and gave the boy a little shake. He was still breathing, and his eyes were open, but he wasn’t panicked like the other humans. As quiet as if he were sleeping, he stood next to her, facing forward, with a vacant expression. Aside from an occasional blink, she could barely tell he was alive.
“There’s something wrong with my human, Xavier,” Alexandra said.